See the shark has teeth like razors
All can read his open face
And Macheath has got a knife, but
Not in such an obvious place

See the shark, How red his fins are
As he slashes at his prey
Mac the Knife wears white kid gloves which
Give the minimum away

By the Thames turbid waters,
Men [bad word] tumble down
Is it plague, or is it cholera?
Or a sign Macheath's in town?

On a beautiful blue Sunday,
See a corpse stretched on the Strand
See a man dodge around the corner...
Mackie's friend's will understand.

And the ghastly fire in Soho,
Seven children at a go
In the crowd stands Mac the knife, but
He's not asked and doesn't know